The Fellowship of the Pen
by Sauron Gorthaur
Summary: When the most dangerous and powerful of all Suethor weapons falls into the hands of the LOTR characters and their Sue-slaying protectors, a new quest begins: with Legolas as the Pen-bearer and a Fellowship that, if possible, is even stranger than the last one.
1. Prologue: A Note from the Recorder

**The Fellowship of the Pen**

**by Sauron Gorthaur**

Prologue: A Note from the Recorder

_ I'd just like to say that without me this all would have ended in disaster._

_ Yeah, I know; it's usually the things WITH me that end in disaster, not the other way round, but live with it. Things change. I was desperate. We all were at that point._

_ Still, I'm not completely sure how I got mixed up with all this mess in the first place. The fact that Middle-earth was in the greatest peril it's ever been in since I've been alive probably had something to do with it. But, still, world-saving is a little outside of my comfort zone. And by "little" I mean like the size of the lost kingdom of Arnor._

_ I'm also not sure how I'm the one who got stuck writing it down. OK, well, maybe I kept a few notes during the Journey – I've always been organized (and I have nice handwriting) – but seriously, it was the only thing that kept me sane. There's only so much hobbit chattering, human smooching, and elven camp fire hymns that a guy like me can stomach. _

_And well, of course, there were… Them. _

_And They're enough to drive anyone insane._

_I guess it was a pretty important occasion, too. I mean, it was the only time in history that Middle-earth has been united under a single cause for real. Last Alliance? War of the Ring? All that united Free Peoples nonsense? Really? True, there was the Traitor, but he doesn't count. (I _did_ warn them.) But for what matters, Middle-earth was united._

_Don't get me wrong: this doesn't change anything back home. The story will go on just the way we left it. I have every intention to start the War back up exactly where we left off. The Journey was just an emergency procedure. We did what we had to. And besides, I can't STAND competition._

_So, this is our story. These were the darkest days Middle-earth has ever seen, but we know how to fight back. For the first time, Middle-earth had a true cause and a truly terrible Enemy._

_Let's just say: there are some things out there that even I consider evil._

The Dark Lord Sauron,

Recorder for the Fellowship of the Pen


	2. Why Can't Legolas Ever Save Himself?

**Author's Notes: This story was inspired by Araloth the Random's hilarious and clever Sue-slaying parodies, "Fair Wanderer, Thou Makest Me Sick" and "Fair Wanderer, Thou Makest Me Sicker." If you enjoy this story, I recommend Araloth's fics highly. (You can also find more of her parodies under the pen-name Araloth of Doriath.)**

**Also, please note that this is a parody, and therefore, is intended for humor and to poke gentle fun at all of us fanfiction writers, myself included. I have read Sue-slaying parodies that were very cruel and mocked certain types of fanfiction writers and certain characters in ways that I did not find appropriate. This is not one of those! We have all dreamed up Mary Sues (or Gary Stus) at one time or another, whether or not we actually wrote them down and shared them, so I offer this story as a chance for us all to laugh at ourselves. I think it's important to be able to laugh at our own silliness and (dare I say it) occasional lapses into lack-logic fangirl-or-fanboy-ishness. I will certainly be poking fun directly at myself at certain points during the course of this tale. I do not intend to mock, flame, or cruelly criticize anyone or any character, and I hope that no-one who may see themselves reflected in this story will take offense. Instead, I hope that I can present a way for you to laugh at your own reflection!**

**Thank you for reading and I hope you will enjoy "The Fellowship of the Pen."**

* * *

Chapter 1: Why Can't Legolas Ever Save Himself?

It was a clear, spring day in Middle-earth. There were only a few clouds hovering high above the swaying trees on the border of Northern Mirkwood, and the bright spring grass was speckled with flowers whose aromas lightly perfumed the crisp, fresh air. In the distance, the Misty Mountains created a pleasantly sublime panorama. In short, it was a beautiful day.

In fact, it was just a little _too_ beautiful. The sky was just a little too blue, there were just a few too many flowers, and the leaves of Mirkwood's trees were just a little too perfect a shade of green.

Look. The border of Mirkwood is not completely bereft of life. Two figures stand, almost imperceptible, within the shade cast by the towering trees of the ancient forest. The first and taller of the two is a woman with a stiff poise, her arms folded as she leans against the bole of an ancient oak. She is wearing rather typical medieval clothing, though somewhat masculine: leggings, boots, cloak, and a dark green tunic and shirt with the initials KI stitched on the front of the left shoulder. Her hair is light brown with just the first hints of grey streaked through it, all of it pulled back in a neat bun, her complexion a similar color to her hair though still Caucasian, and her eyes dark. Her age is hard to determine from her smooth, calculating face, but she is in fact forty-five (by Hub-years). She has a prominently hooked nose which has earned her the nickname by which all her colleagues know her: Hawk.

Her companion is a man in his late twenties, sitting in the grass and plucking up flowers idly. He is rather short and already has an expanding middle that suggests he enjoys the pleasures of the table. His face is pleasant and clean-shaven, and he has a dimple at the left corner of his mouth as if he often smiles lopsidedly. His hair is dark brown with just a hint of auburn and perhaps could be wavy, but it appears to be a stranger to the comb and at the moment is tangled around his ears. His eyes are bright blue, and he is dressed in almost identical raiment to his companion. His name is Jason Porter, but his friends call him Jase and his colleagues call him Porter.

Both Hawk and Porter are armed with a small crossbow, a quiver of nine quarrels over their shoulders, and a long, slim knife, as well as a curious bottle of faintly shining white liquid hanging from each of their leather belts. They are also armed with very serious expressions and do not appear to be enjoying the overly beautiful day as much as one might expect.

~o~o~o~

Porter sighed in a bored manner and plucked up a handful of grass. After examining it, he shook his head and tossed it away in disgust. "Will you look at this grass, Hawk – it looks like someone took a paintbrush to it. It's practically glowing neon-green," he said, a slight Cockney accent tinting his voice. "I wouldn't even make a fake Christmas tree out of this stuff."

Hawk gave the grass a cursory glance, then sniffed. "The flowers smell an awful lot like cheap perfume, too," she commented. "I wouldn't even be able to smell lilac from this far away. You'd think They'd at least get the details from their own world right."

Porter shrugged and pulled a medallion out of his shirt collar. It looked like a combination of a compass and a clock face. One hand slowly ticked around the circle as if keeping time, while the second hand wobbled gently in place. "Still no signs of her," he said, tucking the medallion back into his shirt.

Hawk glanced at her own medallion, which she'd strapped to her wrist like a watch. "We'll know when she gets here." She closed her eyes, relaxing against the tree trunk. "It's not like they're subtle or anything."

Lying down flat on his back, Porter watched a cloud swirl slowly into a shape that looked suspiciously like a winged horse. He too closed his eyes and tried to ignore the overly strong perfume-like smell of the flowers.

They didn't have long to wait. Suddenly, Hawk's eyes flew open and she straightened, her hand going to the knife at her waist. Roused by his colleague's swift movement, Porter sat up and blinked at her. "What is it?"

"Listen."

Porter listened and heard nothing for a moment. Then, faintly from the forest, he heard what sounded like the song of a bird. Except that it was singing the tune of "May it Be" from _The Fellowship of the Ring _movie.

"That's no native of Middle-earth," Hawk said grimly.

Porter yanked out his medallion and saw the second hand trembling violently, pointed straight into the forest. He leapt to his feet. "We've got a Sue," he shouted excitedly.

~o~o~o~

They found her within five minutes.

The dash through the forest had been quite easy. Despite the fact that the forest was old and dark enough to earn the name Mirkwood and, when normal, was a nightmare to get through unless you found the elven paths, somehow when a Sue was around, it always transformed into a cheery, open woodland with lots of convenient little glens and flower-speckled clearings just perfect for a romantic meeting.

It was in one of these clearings that they found their quarry. The clearing was even worse than many of the others, with more Perfume Flowers than grass on the ground, perfectly lit through the canopied branches, surrounded by trees that looked much too young, straight, and bright to belong anywhere near Mirkwood, and completed with a lovely little brook that flowed through the middle, creating an enchanting bubbling sound like a fountain.

Two people stood in the clearing, one on each side of the stream. On the right hand side was an elven ellon, dressed in the typical Sylvan browns and greens and carrying a bow and arrows. He was certainly attractive, but all Elves were, and at the moment he appeared distinctly distracted and anxious. Part of his anxiety seemed to be coming from the fact that his hair was changing color – from the top of his head to his shoulders, it was naturally dark like the majority of Elves, but the bottom of his hair was ash blonde as if he'd accidentally leaned forward into a paint bucket. The blonde color was seeping upwards. The other part of his anxiety, however, clearly came from the figure standing across the stream from him.

The Mary Sue was a truly dismaying sight. She had black hair curling in waves to her waist, the locks absurdly thick and glossy (and also catching the light in the wrong places as if she'd been drawn by someone who didn't understand the rules of light reflection.) She had huge eyes that would have looked better on an animated Disney princess and they were as blue as the sky, which at the moment was saying something. They also were reflecting pinpoints of light, as if the stars were mirrored in them, despite the fact that there were no stars out in the middle of the day (and unlike with Cate Blanchett, there were also no nearby camera men with Christmas lights to create a similar effect.) Her ears were delicately pointed, her skin more like swan feathers than real flesh, and her body would have made Barbie consider dieting. She was wearing a pale blue gown that no self-respecting elleth would have worn outside her private chamber, and her bare feet were hardly bending the flowers underneath them. Her arms were outstretched as she called out to the cowering Elf on the other side of the stream in a voice that sounded like it would break into song at any minute. "My prince, my darling, my love, can it be that truly it is you, my love?"

Legolas cast a desperate look over his shoulder as if hoping against hope that the Sue was addressing someone behind him. He backed away, rubbing at the blonde hem of his hair which had reached his shoulders by now. "I'm sorry but I don't believe we have met," he said. "You must be thinking of someone else."

The Sue countered his retreat by taking several steps forward to the edge of the sparkling stream. "No, I know it to be you whom I seeketh, my love. I would know your face and your voice amidst all the Elves of Middle Earth. For three hundred years, my love, I have seen you in my dreams and long I have known that you are the one who can make my soul complete. No other have I ever loved. No other do I ever desire to love. And I know that you feel the same about me, for every night in my dreams I hear you sigh and tell me that you wish us to be together for as long as Middle Earth shall last."

"Well, last night I dreamed that I was chased by a giant, talking wolf and was saved by a giant, talking butterfly, so how much can dreams really mean?" Legolas said, attempting a light shrug.

The Sue stepped into the water, holding the hem of her dress up to reveal her slim ankles. She seemed to consider this, then hoisted the dress up to reveal a good portion of her shapely legs as well. "Ah, but you see, my love," she cried, "your dream does have meaning. The wolf who chased you is your cruel father who does not wish you to ever marry and who will try to keep you from being with your true love. And I am the butterfly, for I was born with a birthmark on my back that looks like unto two butterfly wings."

Legolas groaned and dropped his face into his hands.

Both Legolas and the Sue were much too focused on one another to notice the two shadowy figures standing at the edge of the clearing and watching this exchange. Porter and Hawk keenly observed the Sue. "Looks like we have a variation of the Prophecy-Sue," Hawk muttered. "Definitely a Love-before-first-sight-Sue, but most of them are."

She snapped her Sue-compass shut. "Right, let's take care of this abomination."

She and Porter stepped into the clearing, holding their crossbows close. The Mary Sue didn't even notice them as she stepped up on Legolas' side of the stream, as focused as she was on her victim. Legolas, however, immediately perked up upon seeing them. "Thank Elbereth," he said with a relieved sigh.

The Sue took this comment as a reply to her interpretation of his dream. "Yes, my prince, we can both be grateful that the Star Queen who loves our people so dearly has finally brought us together, just as she did for Aragorn and Arwen. Do not fear, we will overcome all adversity for nothing is more powerful than true love. I would climb the highest mountain in Middle Earth to be at your side. I put Amroth to shame by swimming across the most perilous ocean to see your face. I would walk through the fires of Mordor to hold you in my arms. I would –"

"Stop right there, Sue scum," Hawk said, leveling her crossbow at the Sue.

The Mary Sue immediately whipped around to face her, an expression of dumb confusion crossing her perfect features briefly before she drew herself up. "Do not come a step closer, for surely you are servants of the Enemy," she cried. "Do not fear, my love," she called out in an afterthought to Legolas, who did not look nearly as afraid at the sight of Hawk and Porter as he had at the sight of the Sue. "I, Morweniel, shall let no harm befall my darling." The Sue glared at Hawk and Porter, her pencil-thin eyebrows drawing together, and pulled a sword out of…somewhere.

"Morweniel?" Hawk scoffed. "You do know that means 'black lady lady'? I don't know what a 'lady lady' is, but it doesn't sound appropriate." Her mocking voice hardened. "We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way. We know what you are. Do you surrender?"

"Love is never without adversity, and if we did not suffer to win the one we love, can it truly be called true love?" Morweniel cried. And with that, she charged Hawk and Porter.

"Whatever," said Hawk. She pulled the trigger.

The Sue staggered back as the bolt slammed into her chest. She swayed, the sword mysteriously vanishing to the same place from which it had come, then she fell to her knees, twitching slightly. Her skin already looked a little less pure and swan-feathery than it had, and her hair began to look more brown than black.

"What have you done to me?" she gasped, staring dramatically at her hands. A spasm shook her and she bent over in a most undignified position.

Hawk smirked and held up the bottle of white liquid. "Liquid logic. They came up with it over in the Harry Potter department just a few months ago. We dip the head of each bolt in it. Does wonders with your kind. Can you feel it in your blood stream weakening you already? Logic and Sue blood make water and oil look like best friends. Don't worry – it won't last long."

The Sue wailed and stretched a hand out toward Legolas. "My beloved, come to me. The only thing that can save me now is a kiss from your fair lips: the kiss of true love. We are destined to be together. We shall live in bliss until the end of time. Nothing can part us…"

Legolas made no move to help his "beloved."

It was not clear whether it was this, or Hawk's second bolt, that finished her off.

Legolas kept his distance from the crumpled form of the Sue as Hawk and Porter approached her. With a look of distaste, Hawk nudged the body over on its back with the tip of her boot, then knelt down to examine the wounds. There was no blood; it looked as if she had fired both crossbow bolts into a wad of cotton balls instead of flesh. Reaching down, she pulled out her two bolts, and as the second one came free, the Sue fell apart like scraps of paper. Stuck to the end of the second bolt was what looked like a piece of red construction paper, shaped like a Valentine's heart. Hawk shook her head at the sight of it. "A Mary Sue heart – one of the most flimsy things you'll ever see."

Now convinced that the Sue was dead, Legolas sidled over, though he still seemed unwilling to get too close to her. Porter glanced at the Elf prince as he came to stand beside them. "You're blonding," Porter told him.

Legolas sighed again and lifted the tips of his hair, examining them. The blonde color had stopped creeping upwards and looked like it was beginning to fade. "It always does that when one of those comes near me," he murmured despondently. "It'll go back to its real color in a couple of hours."

He looked up at his saviors. "I suppose I owe you both my deepest gratitude and thanks." He cast the deceased Morweniel a look and shuddered. "I don't know what I would have done in another couple minutes. My arrows have no effect on them, and when the blonde color gets all the way to the top of my head, my mind starts going funny. I'd rather face a whole legion of orcs than one of those."

Porter patted his crossbow. "No need to worry, mate. There's few things more satisfying than giving a Sue a healthy dose of logic." He chuckled. "It's not healthy for _them_, but it definitely protects the sanity of everyone else."

A small smile formed on Legolas' lips and he nodded to them both. "I appreciate it, truly; my father would have a fit if I got into Sue problems right now. I've got business to attend to. I'm supposed to be leaving tomorrow at first light to go to some meeting at Rivendell." He made a face. "Apparently, I got nominated to explain to Lord Elrond how we managed to let Gollum escape."

Hawk and Porter exchanged a knowing look. "Good luck with that," Porter said before muttering under his breath, "Don't get caught up in any epic quests to save the world or anything."

Legolas turned around at the edge of the clearing, the small frown still on his fair elven features. "What did you say?" he asked, looking a little puzzled.

"Oh, nothing," Porter said hurriedly. "Just have an epic time, that's all."

Legolas nodded slowly then trotted off into the woods, which looked considerably more murky and overgrown than before. The sky had become overcast and there was a wintery chill in the air now. The remnants of the bright spring day had turned into a glowering autumn afternoon.

Hawk gave Porter a mock glare. "What was that?" she said. "You know we can't give them any information about what's going to happen to them."

"I didn't think he could hear me from across the clearing," Porter defended himself, pulling his Sue-medallion out of his shirt.

"He's an Elf," Hawk said. "They hear everything."

She pulled her cloak about herself and shivered as a gust of northern wind rattled the gloomy branches. Porter nudged her with his elbow. "Time to head back to HQ, you think?" he said. "There were no more Sues on the radar for today."

Nodding, Hawk looked at the ground where the sparkling stream had dried up and the grass and flowers were now replaced with a layer of dank loam. "I've had enough Sues for today anyway," she sighed, observing that Morweniel's body had completely vanished as if the Sue had never existed. She sighed and rubbed her back. "I do wish Legolas would learn to save himself every once in a while," she groused.

Porter laughed, the left side of his mouth twitching upward into his lopsided grin. "But that would leave us without a job. And don't you love seeing the shock on their faces when they realize their evil plans and invasions have failed and they can't kidnap their "darling Leggie" to live with them happily ever after?"

Hawk's grim mouth flickered into a smile. "Not to mention that their darling Leggie doesn't _want_ to live with them happily ever after. Come on, are we getting back to headquarters or not?"

The two Sue-Slayers held up their medallions and pressed a button in the middle. There was a brief flicker in the air, like disturbed water, and then it was as if there had never been an interruption in the course of Middle-earth history.


End file.
